


Revelling

by gostisbehere (castielsstarr)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018 Stanley Cup Playoffs, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17539964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/gostisbehere
Summary: He doesn’t remember climbing over the boards, skating into the giant mass of yelling and hugging bodies. There’s so much noise around him and he doesn’t see anything, not really. Not until Alex is in his face.





	Revelling

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I was kind of just working through some more shit and took it out on Nicky.

At the time, Nicky is only aware of the sounds.

Heavy breathing.

The final buzzer.

Screams.

He doesn’t remember climbing over the boards, skating into the giant mass of yelling and hugging bodies. There’s so much noise around him and he doesn’t see anything, not really. Not until Alex is in his face.

Alex is grabbing him, pulling Nicky close and shaking him a little. It marks the first time Nicky won’t be able to breathe tonight. “I’m gonna give it to you, baby.”

With his face against Alex’s shoulder, Nicky manages to get out, “Ok, let’s do it.” And after that Alex isn’t next to him and his world starts to fade again. Teammates are hugging him, grabbing at him, but Nicky just doesn’t feel.

Everything blurs now. Sounds, sights, all of it. They’re standing huddled together in the middle of the ice, but he doesn’t remember getting there. Maybe someone nudged him along?

Nicky would have missed it entirely if Alex’s voice wasn’t so deeply ingrained in his being that his top-volume cries of “Backy” cut through the fog.

Waiting with the others, waiting to be brought the cup doesn’t seem right. Alex is calling him. It feels like he’s skating without control of his body, moving out to meet Alex who is handing him the Stanley Cup. The thing they’d worked so hard to achieve together and then he’s holding it above his head and Alex is holding his hips, holding him up, holding him together.

It’s the second time he can’t seem to catch his breath.

The next time Nicky’s aware of his surroundings is in the locker room. There’s singing and so much alcohol. He’s soaked in it and the lingering taste in his mouth tells him he's had a drink.

Trembling starts in his hands, spreading through to his shoulders. He needs to get out of there before this gets worse. No one will notice if he slips away to the showers, all too focused on their revelling.

He doesn't fuck with getting his clothes off, they're drenched, anyway. But he needs the water and the white noise to drown out some of the yelling.

The spray is still cold when he shoves his head underneath, face turned up into the flowing water, holding his breath until it starts to warm. It feels like the enormity of tonight is crushing him and if he can't draw a full breath to start with, maybe holding his breath will be just fine.

Burning starts in Nicky's lungs and he thinks _it's just an ache. Like being bag skated._ Ache grows into pressure grows into survival instinct. Nicky has no choice but to push himself forward, out of the water, against the still-cold tile. The gasping breath he takes isn't any more satisfying than before.

“Nicky?” It's his Alex. Not Captain, not Ovi, this is the gentle Alex who wakes up soft and snuggly in Nicky's bed. The one who tries to cook dinner for him, but ends up ordering pizza when he fails. “What happened?”

He can't speak, breath rattling in his chest, hiding his face against the tile. Alex should be out celebrating. _Nicky_ should be out celebrating.

Alex is next to him quickly, he can see the bulk of his chest from the corner of his eye. “Hey, I'm here, Nicky. Right here. Can I touch?”

If he nods in response, Nicky doesn’t know. He just falls into Alex’s arms once they’re close, letting him bear the weight Nicky’s been holding onto. The tension snaps and there’s wetness on his face that isn’t water dripping from his curls. Salty when it touches his lips. He’s sobbing into Alex’s shirt, clutching onto him like Alex might walk away and leave him alone.

“Right here. I’ve got you. Is gonna be ok,” Alex murmurs in a continuous stream.

It takes a while for Nicky to settle to hiccupping tears instead of sobbing, but Alex stays. He’s muttering in Russian that Nicky can’t understand right now but it’s soothing nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry,” Nicky says, voice thick and a few remaining tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Don’t be. As long as you’re ok?”

Nicky nods, wiping his face. “It was just too much.”

“Winning? Yeah.”

“Thirteen years.” Nicky sniffles and finally looks at Alex. “You did it.”

“Not just me. You did it, too. Couldn’t get that Cup without my Nicky.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I promise I don't bite:  
> General hockey blog: [gostisbhere](http://www.gostisbhere.tumblr.com)  
> Shipping hockey blog: [mousemarns](http://www.mousemarns.tumblr.com)


End file.
